Imagination = I I’m a magi magic nation ation tion ion



Magic nation

Made of MANy

A small ration

Like the penny


Of a dollar

In a statement

Numbered smaller

A debasement


Of your money

As it dwindles

Buying funny

Selling swindles


Purchase a biz

Profits will be

Currency is

Currents at sea


An ImBaLAnce

The desert heat

in ocean sand…

the cosmic flow

of spaceship~manned

A silent string

a box of “whoa!”

the unseen things

in risen dough

There’s work in play—

((((sound)))) in science

I play You work

in alliance

Minding my mind

while needing yours

is why this poem

is filled with fours.

Two Days In One

A leaping year
What’s time? A fog?
Pass over and
Record a blog!

An empty page
For twenty-nine
In journal layge
For life of myne.

Blah Blah Blah Blah
Oh Oh Oh Oh
Awe Awe Awe Awe
No No Yes No!

Yet I will write
This empty day’d
Of hours not quite
And prayers not prayed.


Poetry. A day. A place.

There was a page for February 29 in my journal. I did not want to leave it blank, and like walking, poetry solves everything. Because I believe that we do not have enough words in this world (in all languages, not just English, I wanted to make the word “layge” mean “just laying there, wide open and asking to be filled yet having no expectation.” And then, instead of the pedestrian word “mine” (favorite of toddlers everywhere), I crafted “myne” to be the adult version of the word. The toddlers can have their “I” but at this train station age of 56, I like the “Y” of myne because it sounds like “why?” which is the root word for all existence, everywhere.

Have a good day, my friends, to those who will read and who will knot even know that this blog exists! Yes, yes. To all that is seen and unseen. Much like February 29 in a year of no leap.